


The Wedding Planner

by listentothewordsyousay



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentothewordsyousay/pseuds/listentothewordsyousay
Summary: It had caused no end of strife between them, but in the end, Jamie Fraser had to admit that his sister Jenny had been right: Lallybroch was the perfect location for weddings.





	1. Chapter 1

It had caused no end of strife between them, but in the end, Jamie Fraser had to admit that his sister Jenny had been right: Lallybroch was the perfect location for weddings. Under her careful management, the old stone house and its grounds had become a luxury hotel specialising in even more luxurious weddings, attracting clients from all over Scotland and beyond. 

He could burst with pride when he saw the effect it was having on the local village. He had recruited musicians, chefs, housekeepers, janitors, groundskeepers and seamstresses. A thriving industry of drivers, nature and history trails and cutesy shops had sprung up around the wedding industry. The local church, which had been crumbling slowly and under the threat of closure, had been saved and restored. Even the farm had been saved, providing the organic ingredients to feed the troops of guests who arrived every weekend.

There was only one person at the hotel who was decidedly not local. And that was the wedding planner.

Claire Beauchamp was a sharp-tongued Londoner who had been brought up in the hotel trade, accompanying her uncle around the world as he instructed butlers, housemaids and waiting staff in the old-fashioned craft of silver service. Her ability to plan and run modern weddings with old-time glamour had helped her establish her name in the wedding business in the south of England. It had been a surprise to everyone when she accepted the position at the relatively unknown Lallybroch.

She drove Jamie to distraction; she was the wedding planner, not the general manager, as he frequently reminded her. She would unfailingly retort with an in-depth critique of whatever flaw she had found in whatever part of the business. He had no idea how to handle her: putting on the charm had been a complete failure; losing his temper had brought the wrath of both her and Jenny upon him and trying to out-talk her had tied him up in knots for the first time in his life.

‘We could employ Leaoghaire instead?’ was Jenny’s default response whenever he tried to complain about Claire, causing him to throw his hands up in the air and stomp out to mutter to the horses about dark haired women who didn’t listen to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie had nearly burst with joy when Jenny whispered to him that she was having a baby. His enthusiasm was only slightly dampened by the thought of trying to run the hotel without her. He was under no illusions about how hard his sister worked to keep Lallybroch running perfectly. Moreover, he knew exactly what she was going to suggest to keep service running smoothly.

Claire knew what she was doing. She managed the clients with utter professionalism and the staff who weren’t personally afraid of her were afraid of her reputation. She shared Jenny’s vision of what the hotel could be.

Jamie knew his sister was right. He was less sure about the latest scheme she had planned.

‘A photoshoot?’ he repeated hoarsely. ‘A PHOTOSHOOT?’

‘Yes, Jamie, a photoshoot. You know, man with a camera, takes photographs, magazine, website. This is a huge opportunity, we can’t pass this by!’

‘Well, why can’t you and I do it?’ he persisted stubbornly.

‘Because I can’t stand up without throwing up,’ she retorted irritably.

And so Jamie found himself in the parlour, which, despite the summer heat, had been decorated for a lavish Lallybroch Christmas. Fraser firs stood proudly, bedecked in red and gold decorations, garlands wrapped around the ancient oak banister and flickering tea lights in all of the nooks and crannies.

He had been forced into a suit for the purpose, and a make-up artist kept attempting to daub his face with lotions and potions. He was fidgeting with his cuffs (it was too hot, dammit) when Claire came in the side door.

He was generally aware that she was a beautiful woman. Every now and then he would cast an admiring look over her, before he forced his brain back into business mode.

Today she was nothing short of stunning, in a simple black dress with low black heels. Her brown curls had been tamed and were shinier and glossier than ever. He couldn’t help but grin at her. ‘You scrub up well, Sassenach.’

He had been expecting a sharp, sarcastic response. He was slightly taken aback by her quiet ‘so do you.’ She sounded different, he thought, and then he caught a glimpse of her white hands shaking. She was nervous.

‘Are ye alright?’ he whispered, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her.

‘It should be Jenny here,’ she said, turning her beautiful brown eyes up to his face. ‘She’s your sister, this is her vision.’

When the photographer did ask him to put his arms around her and gather her close, he was exceptionally glad that the woman beside him was not his sister.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a truth universally acknowledged in Lallybroch and Broch Morda that a young man like Jamie Fraser was a man in need of a nice girl, if not a wife. It was an interest that ran deeper than simple gossip; the villagers remembered with sorrow the little figure walking beside his mother’s coffin, and a gawky, boyish figure carrying his father’s coffin on his last journey not so long ago. 

A photograph of the broad-shouldered, high-cheekboned young man in a magazine, his arm protectively wrapped around a beautiful young Englishwoman, was always going to set tongues wagging.

Claire had waited for the release of the photoshoot with slight trepidation. The make-up artist had a rather different idea of subtle than she had; her hair had been blown into bouncy waves, her eyes had been ringed with black and her lips painted red. She had felt quite glamorous and not just a little lovely, as she had came into the parlour and saw Jamie waiting for her.

Had she met him in a bar, she wouldn’t have been able to deny his attractiveness. Even working all the hours God sent, it was hard to overlook the way his hair curled at the back of his neck just so, or how his arms looked when he rolled up his shirtsleeves. He spoke to guests politely; but was even more courteous to his staff and the villagers who called to him when they were out collecting guests or running errands.

‘A lovely lad, isn’t he?’ they would inevitably say to Claire, winking in the way that middle-aged folk do when they see the opportunity for a romance.

The autumn had faded and winter had settled on the Highland village, although there was no sign of snow just yet. Claire pulled her hat over her ears as she came out of the post office, looking up and down the street for Jamie’s jeep.

He was leaning against it in his navy jacket and green tartan scarf, chatting to an acquaintance Claire knew worked in the maintenance crew. He smiled as she approached and made his goodbyes. He was impossibly handsome, she thought, looking up at him and feeling herself beam back.

‘Hi love. Can we go a wee detour?’

The irrational thought that she would go anywhere with him, if he called her love, popped into her brain, and was pushed out with difficulty as she settled into the front seat.

‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see,’ he said cheerfully, as he took the turn out of the village.

They chatted easily as they drove up country lanes, reaching the foothills of the Cairngorm mountains. It was the sort of wintery day that made the colours of the mountains seem almost pastel; the sunlight casting a hazy glow across the landscape. 

‘I don’t think I’ve been up here,’ she said, leaning against the window at the scenery.

‘It’s pretty much deserted,’ he agreed. ‘We used to come up here to play when we were wee.’

‘You came this far? On your own?!’

‘Uch, you’re a city girl. Oh aye, we ran wild. Came back when we were hungry,’ he answered wistfully. He nosed the jeep into a layby. ‘You ready?’

He led her along a trail for a while, catching her elbow when she stumbled on the rough track.

She eventually stopped and gasped. Among the rolling hills was an even older village, the stone houses tumbledown and ruined. In the distance a loch glinted in the sun, as clear and smooth as a mirror.

‘I’ve been thinking about buying the land and doing them up,’ he said quietly, looking straight at her.

‘Honeymoon suites?’ she mused.

He nodded and began to sketch out his vision for her. ‘This one could be two storeys. I thought the staff could stay here…’

Eventually he stopped, a blush tinging his ears. ‘Maybe just a pipe dream,’ he muttered.

She put her hand on his arm and looked at his eyes, shining as blue as the sky that stretched above him. ‘I think it would be amazing,’ she said softly. ‘It’s so beautiful.’ The expression in her eyes made the words he was going to say sound foolish and inadequate.

So in the late afternoon sunlight, he bent his head and kissed her, pulling her closer to him and feeling her hands pull him closer too.


	4. Chapter 4

One of the things that Claire had immediately loved about Lallybroch was the aura of peace that enveloped the big stone house. Jenny had set her aside a small sitting room, bedroom and bathroom to use as her own. When she wasn’t on duty, she could sit by the fireplace in the sitting room, reading and drinking tea, and feel completely at peace.

Now she paced up and down the floorboards, to the alarm of Adso the cat, who had been gently snoozing in his usual spot by the fire.

She had kissed her boss, the man who owned everything here. She had broken all of the rules she had ever had about working professionally, and to make it worse, she had enjoyed it. She had pulled in closer to him and parted her lips to kiss him more deeply.

She threw herself down on a chair in disgust. When the kiss had ended, they had laughed awkwardly, before settling into a silent drive back to the hotel, where she had practically raced up to her rooms to avoid him.

She heard a knock at the door and Jenny’s voice.

‘Claire? Are you okay? Let me in.’

‘I’m fine,’ she called.

‘Are you sure?’

She hid her face in her hands as she lied through her teeth.

Dusk fell and Claire remained in her room, alternating between pacing and lying on her bed in a storm of anxiety.

Eventually another knock came.

‘Claire, it’s me. I am so sorry.’

She opened the heavy oak door before she could change her mind.

‘Jamie, I’m…’

He interrupted her, begging her forgiveness. ‘…. Because I really respect you, and I didn’t want to hurt you or embarrass you in any way. I am so, so sorry Claire.’

‘It’s not that!’ she cried.

He stopped, looking perplexed, hands half raised and mouth still open.

‘Then what is it?’ he asked gently.

‘I’m still married,’ she replied miserably.


	5. Chapter 5

Feeling all of her professionalism crumble around her, Claire told Jamie the entire tale; how she had married young and how it had all fallen to pieces around them. He had accused her of having an affair, she recounted bitterly, when it had been him who had slept with his secretary.

‘And then I came here, and you, you are so…’

She trailed off, looking at the man sitting opposite her. He had been still the entire time, listening intently to her babble. 

‘He let you down,’ he said finally.

‘Yes,’ she said helplessly.

‘You didn’t deserve that.’

She breathed deeply and looked back at him, willing herself not to weep.

The peat on the fire crackled in the silence, as he considered his next words and Claire tried to soothe herself by listing the jobs she had been offered in the furthest away corners of the world.

‘Will you divorce him?’ he asked finally.

‘Yes. I’m just waiting for the certificate.’

‘Well…. when you do have the certificate,’ he began, looking up at her and beginning to smile, ‘Will you let me know? Because I liked kissing you and I want to do it more often. I havena done it for quite a long time.’

‘If you’ll have me,’ he added hastily, seeing her utter surprise.

She couldn’t help but burst out laughing. ‘If I’ll have you! Jamie… you are the most….’ she dissolved again into a flurry of tears and giggles.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ she whispered eventually, realising that he was holding her hands.

He started speaking in Gaelic then, smoothing her hair and kissing her forehead, telling her that he would give her the world if he could and that he was counting down the days until he could tell her so in words she would understand.


	6. Chapter 6

The snow came as December dawned, first dusting the mountains, then settling on the higher ground and finally sweeping into the village, giving the quaint little place even more charm.

Jenny and Ian had decided to move in with his parents, nearer to the city hospital, while they waited for the baby. It left the hotel without two of its greatest assets, forcing Jamie and Claire to work long into the night to get everything ready.

Claire supervised indoors, while Jamie had more or less recruited the entire population to clearing the roads and paths for the upcoming weddings; they couldn’t afford for them to be cancelled. He also took over Ian’s driving duties, regularly bringing supplies, guests and post up from the village.

He scanned every envelope anxiously as Mrs Graham in the post office handed them to him, looking for a legal looking packet addressed to Claire. She rarely had any post; the occasional delivery from an online clothes store, a few Christmas cards from friends, a strange parcel from a Parisian pharmacy… but nothing that could be the certificate that freed her from her marriage.

The idea was strange to him; having been brought up in the Church, and in a community which rarely deviated from father, mother and children, divorce still held the taint of shame, a word to be whispered and a burden to bear.

But now, he decided, it was cruelness and unfaithfulness that were the truly grievous sins. He watched Claire work with renewed admiration, recognising the effort she put in to getting everything just so, and wondered how anyone had thought to ignore her, to leave her at home, to choose another woman over her.

He longed for the day he could hold her in his arms and worship her.


	7. Chapter 7

Since the business had really taken off, Jamie insisted on one thing: they would never host anyone on either New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day, no matter who they were or how much money they offered. It was Hogmanay and the staff deserved the night off.

Claire had felt Jamie’s eyes on her since her confession. His presence was neither overbearing nor concerning. It was at once flirtatious and respectful, making her feel like that red-lipped woman in the photograph. She deliberately raised her eyes to stare at his. She swayed her hips as she walked and took care to put her hand on his forearm just so innocently.

But December became overwhelmingly busy, with weddings every few days and the presence of two particularly overbearing families with two particularly demanding brides. Flirting was soon relegated to texts, sent at snatched moments of peace on two different timetables, and waiting for the post was a luxury when there was always something needing to be done.

When the sun peeped through her curtains on the morning of New Year’s Day, Jamie, usually woken by the lark, gratefully rested his tired arms and legs, pulling his comforter around him. In her rooms at the other end of the house, Claire too gratefully pulled her own duvet closer around her and returned to sleep, unaware that a large brown envelope had been carefully slid under her door.

She felt pleasantly slovenly as she rolled her hair into a bun and pulled her fleecy dressing gown around her mid afternoon, before taking refuge on the sofa with a pot of tea and a trashy Christmas novel. It was only as the dusky darkness began to draw down and she considered venturing down to the kitchen that she recognised the shape of the envelope on the floor.

She was free. She was Claire Beauchamp again, truly, honestly and legally.


	8. Chapter 8

James Alexander McKenzie Fraser had several weaknesses. These consisted of, in no particular order, Irn Bru, square sausages, dark haired women, and going out dancing. Despite Jenny’s jokes about seven brides for seven brothers, him and his friends had been regulars on the night bus into the city for drinks and dancing in their youth. 

Jenny could usually be coaxed into coming along too, although he had come to learn that she needed an entire day of preparation, especially if her friends got wind that there was the chance to go out-out too.

He therefore found it completely unremarkable that he did not see Claire throughout the day of the 31st of December. He assumed that she would be getting ready for that evening’s party. Thanks to his own mammoth sleep, he had missed the chance to go to the post office and had entertained himself by internally debating the idea of kissing her at midnight, divorced or not.

He was in the middle of rehearsing his ‘against’ argument over a dram when he saw her come into the bar. 

She truly was beautiful. She had left her hair curly, but embellished her eyes until they sparkled. Her dress was cut to accentuate both her tiny waist and her curves, flowing around her feet like a mermaid.

He rose to his feet and searched for the words to say. She looked up at him and smiled, before reaching up to kiss his cheek. She brushed her lips against his cheek and whispered in his ear.

For one moment, there was an almost perfect re-enactment of the photo that would come to embody the Lallybroch style, as red curls bent over dark curls, a white hand gently laid on the crook of an elbow and brown eyes met blue.

And then the lord and lady of Lallybroch turned, hand in hand, to go upstairs, amid twinkling fairy lights, the scent of fir trees and the promise of new beginnings.

\-----------------


End file.
